| Yeah
|
| Buster ass niggas
|
| You niggas don’t wanna see a nigga in
|
| Ya’ll still don’t understand
|
| So fuck em
|
| Know what I’m sayin?
|
| Fuck them niggas
|
| I done made it anyway nigga
|
| Ya’ll some bitch ass niggas
|
| WHAT! |
| WHAT! |
| WHAT!
|
| We can do like Pac and Biggie cuz I’m down for war
|
| I’m not a player hater but I gotta settle the score
|
| These niggas don’t wanna see me in so they talk through they nose
|
| They tryin to hold a nigga down but they movin too slow
|
| Who that nigga with that wisdom until them haters come and get me
|
| I be rollin with killers too for any nigga tryin to sweat me
|
| You can talk that killer shit and watch me walk the walk
|
| I’ll be doing the do while ya’ll be talkin the talk
|
| I was born in '73 I came up tough made me rough
|
| Nigga don’t dis on tape, fuck that I do
|
| So nigga what I dis on CD too
|
| Bitch we bomb back on that ass
|
| And just like? |
| we shoot when other countries attack
|
| That’s why this goes out to Black Laury and Hardy
|
| I’ll say ya’ll alias in the future fuck ya’ll niggas and everybody
|
| That you fuck with
|
| Who don’t like Kingpin Pimp
|
| I hit the streets and projects just like
|
| Welfare and food stamps
|
| Most of the artists they coppin and fuckin em
|
| They makin the green not givin em shit
|
| They artists been workin so hard
|
| They pause for niggas that flodge and dodge
|
| Them boys ain’t hard
|
| The rules of the mob
|
| I’m livin that life
|
| I’m dealin with drug dealers
|
| Wiseguy niggas know the biz
|
| Drag you to the river kid
|
| I’m a playa, baby
|
| I thought you knew
|
| Any hater that try to cross me ain’t no tellin what I’ll do
|
| Mack in the year in this bitch
|
| I see more presidents in the black house
|
| Nigga that shoulda put me in tryin to put a nigga out
|
| I make your ass say «Kingpin!»
|
| I make your ass say «No!»
|
| Keep buggin and screamin nigga stop puttin that ho shit in your flow
|
| When us killers (genate?)
|
| All them haters they fake
|
| These trife ass niggas can’t fuck with us
|
| I’m talkin bout bank and rank
|
| Evil tats on my body from that triple six curse
|
| Cover my flesh forgive me God for sin and when I see dirt
|
| Too many motherfuckers be around me talkin bout
|
| Take off his neck
|
| But I be business bout this shit
|
| Where my motherfuckin checks?
|
| Watch them hoes cuz they slick
|
| And they out to get ya
|
| Ya’ll get richer and scarier
|
| I’ma touch ya and split ya, even when I first met you
|
| You know if you ever swing I’ll put that ass in a strecther
|
| It’s finna rain, pain
|
| How the fuck ya’ll niggas gon stop me nigga?
|
| Some of ya’ll niggas I wrote ya’ll nigga reps
|
| Motherfuckin writer to you buster ass niggas
|
| When ya’ll started writing ya’ll own shit
|
| Then we all started turnin into busters
|
| Ya’ll can’t stop me nigga not one of ya’ll boys
|
| Ya’ll gon hate me for this shit nigga
|
| Ya’ll gon be madder than a motherfucker
|
| Ya’ll gon say that nigga crazy |